that evening. On
the road my mule gave out, and for the last part of the way I had
to walk. I refreshed myself with some zapotes, which were just in
season. This native fruit of Mexico has the flavour of the pear and
the strawberry, and is delicious when picked fresh from the tree;
but as soon as it falls to the ground it is infested with insects.

Contrary to expectation, when I was ready to leave the village,
I found it exceedingly difficult to get men. As the Coras here do
not understand the mule business, I had to resort to the Mexicans in
the valley, who, however, acting under instructions from the padre,
would have nothing to do with me. They even shunned those who were
seen in my company. One man who used to carry on some trading with
the Huichols was more daring than the rest. He declared that he would
serve the devil himself if he got paid for it, and tried to make up a
party for me, but failed. He was ruining his reputation for my sake,
he told me; even his compadre (his child's godfather), on account
of his association with me, ran away when he saw him coming. The
situation finally became so exasperating that I was compelled to write
to the Bishop in Tepic, and lay the case before him. I stated that the
padre, without having seen me, had placed me in a bad light before the
people, and had then left the country, making it impossible for me to
convince him of his error of judgment; that if it were not for the
strong recommendations I had from the Government and the Commanding
General of the Territory, it would be impossible for me to stay here,
except at great personal risk.

To await an answer, however, would have involved too great a loss
of time. Luckily I found three dare-devil fellows, but recently come
into the valley for a living, who were willing to go with me. These,
together with the man already mentioned and one Cora Indian, enabled
me to make a start. Thus I parted from pretty San Francisco, and the
nice Indians there, who had believed in me in spite of the wickedness
the Mexicans had attributed to me. The Coras are the only primitive
race I have met who seem to have acquired the good qualities of the
white man and none of his bad ones.

On an oppressively hot June morning, when I finally got away, the
alcalde rode along with me for a couple of miles. We soon began to
ascend the slope of the mountains that form the western barrier
of the Huichol country, which, among the Mexicans, is reputed to